


In The Event: Before

by mansikka



Series: In the event [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Cruel Dean, Dean in Denial, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-05
Updated: 2016-02-05
Packaged: 2018-05-18 06:27:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5901784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansikka/pseuds/mansikka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is in utter denial about how he feels about Cas. What will it take to make him stop pushing him away?</p>
            </blockquote>





	In The Event: Before

There was  _ before  _ , and there was  _ after  _ .

_ Before  _ .

Absolute denial. Anger. Pulling away, storming off, rolling eyes at how ridiculous the idea was.

_ Before  _ .

Loaded, unbreakable staring, hands gripped to shoulders or arms, full, bodily hugs that clung on and on like they did with no other person. Glances when there was a chance no one else was looking.

_ Before  _ .

Sleepless nights. Constant worry. Continuous planning of conversations that never ever went to plan.

And  _ now  _ ?

What was there now?

*** ***

Witches. Oh, how Dean hated witches. Narcissistic, hell bent on destruction and self-promotion at all times, they had a special place in Dean's heart reserved for things he particularly loathed.

It always seemed to surprise him, the levels a witch would go to for their own personal gain, but it really shouldn't after all this time. This particular witch was all set to release a plague which would wipe out most of the population of North America in the blink of an eye. And for what reason? Because one, clearly wise mere-mortal of a man, had rejected her.

Revenge wasn't going to be a dish best served cold in this case; the flavour would be instant, and deadly.

But witches, as Dean usually found, were not beyond a little negotiation. If they could find her something powerful, the one ingredient for a spell that would make  _ her  _ all powerful, well. Perhaps she would let the silly little humans live after all.

An angel might just fit that description of 'all powerful'. In fact, those had been her very words.  _ Bring me an angel or I will bring a plague upon you all.  _ Dean felt sick at the thought of Cas taking that so literally, and even sicker when imagining all the things that could actually mean for Cas. There was no way on this earth they were going through with that plan. He silently wished that Cas would just stay away, far away from them, at least until they got a handle on things.

***

“ _ You get any closer to me Cas and we're gonna have to talk about protection,” Dean looked to his side, eyes full of distaste, down at the mere millimetres between his and Cas' jackets and back up to Cas' face with a scowl. _

_ Chastised, but not quite understanding, Cas stepped away. He no longer apologised for these little mistakes; he made so many of them lately that Dean was constantly pushing him away because of them. Sometimes literally, physically pressing a hand against him and shoving. _

_ Immediately guilt rushed through Dean; it was only his usual knee jerk reaction to snide comments from people whose words really, since they didn't know them, should have no impact on them whatsoever. It wasn't in any way meant at all. He only ever did it to stop himself leaning into Cas, but that part of the equation he carefully schooled away for denial at a later date. This wasn't the time for that. _

_ Instead he just continued to scowl, resolutely refusing to register the pain on Cas' face. _

***

“I can do this, Dean.”

Cas' voice was full of certainty, and resignation.

Dean shook his head, taking a step closer. “No way. There's no way I'm gonna let you-”

“ _ Let me  _ ?” Cas tilted his head in defiance; who was Dean to tell him what he could and couldn't do, especially when-

“Damn right, 'let you'. You think I'm okay with you basically sacrificing yourself for us? Again? For absolutely no good reason?”

“It is not for 'no good reason', Dean. This could end it all, you know that.”

“Yeah. And like I always tell you, we'll find another way. This isn't the answer, Cas.” Dean stepped even closer, bowing his head down a little as though he was curling down towards Cas to meet him at eye level.

“For what purpose?”

Cas' voice had grown so quiet, that Dean had to strain to hear.

“What purpose? You think giving your life is the only solution we've got? C'mon, Cas. How many worse things have we faced than this?”

“I am not afraid to die. Especially if it means I am of use.” Cas' eyes were imploring, as though begging Dean to understand. What else could he do? He was nothing, now. Not wanted in heaven, not wanted here on earth; he was of no use to anyone, and everything he did he messed up – Dean had said so himself so many times that he'd given up counting.

Dean's hand gripped tightly around Cas' forearm. “No, Cas. We need you. I need you. I've told you that a thousand times over. You think I’m... you think me and Sam are gonna be okay with you just... gone? No way. This is not happening.”

Cas breathed in time with Dean, eye contact never breaking. He felt as though he deserved one last look, one last view of the thing he'd given up so much for, and what he was willing to die for, a million times over, if it would keep Dean safe. It didn't matter that Dean would never understand. It didn't matter that Dean would never return his feelings; feelings he'd only really begun to accept and understand himself relatively recently.

It might be peaceful. It might be sheer relief to be away from all of this constant...feeling. And hurting. And getting it wrong.

Cas' eyes flicked down, slowly trailing up Dean's face; he may as well take a good look, he thought, memorise it one last time if this was the last good image he was going to see. He couldn't help but smile; his Dean, his charge, his reason for just about every good thing he'd ever done – even when those things had gone spectacularly wrong.

With one final breath and a determined fight against the most embarrassing show of emotion, Cas sighed. “You cannot stop me, Dean.” And with that, he raised his hand to Dean's forehead, temporarily rendering him unconscious. How did Dean never see that coming?

Cas caught Dean before he fell, savouring the feeling of him in his arms before gently lowering him to the floor and squatting beside him to study him for another moment. And then he left.

***

“ _ I don't want you to fix me,” Dean blocked Cas' arm as it raised towards him, roughly shoving it away. _

_ Cas stood, paused with his hand uncertainly still reaching for Dean, eyes seeking out explanation. _

“ _ You are injured.” _

“ _ Yeah. I'm injured. I'm always gonna be injured, kinda comes with the job, right?” Dean spat a bloody mouthful to the side and winced, pressing a hand to his swelling cheek. _

“ _ Then let me-” _

“ _ No. I don't need that. I don't want that from you.” Dean's tone was harsh, and biting. _

_ Cas tried to understand, he really did. He'd healed both Dean and Sam many times in the past; why would Dean reject one of the few things he could still do for them now? _

“ _ We can't lean on you, Cas. We can't...expect you to come heal us every time we fall and graze our knees.” _

_ Cas looked at the wound to Dean's face and the way his body curled forward as though to get away from the pain in his side. “This is more than a graze, Dean.” _

“ _ Yeah,” Dean laughed bitterly, “Since I'm the one feeling it I'll vouch for that. But it'll heal. On its own.” _

_ Cas must have still looked confused, because Dean let out a long, impatient sigh. “Look. You've got your own stuff to deal with. We can't rely on you always being there to pick up the pieces. We can't call on you constantly, okay?” _

_ Devastation was evident on Cas' face, but Dean chose to ignore it – that, and the voice yelling in his head telling him to stop being such a bastard. “I always come when you call, Dean,” Cas said, so quietly it was barely above whisper. _

“ _ Yeah,” Dean agreed with a tight nod of his head, “That's the problem, isn't it?” _

***

When Dean had woken, he was completely disoriented and confused, and it had taken several minutes for him to get himself upright and able to think straight. Then it hit him with all the force of a truck;  _ Cas  _ .

He'd run, run like he'd never run in his life, pounding and pounding through hallways and broken glass and general debris that was in his way, pausing only when he collided with Sam, clearly going in the same direction.

They slammed open the door together, and the image in front of them was one of those nightmare ones that would remain with them for far too long. Cas, writhing in a glowing light, a foot or two off the floor, completely helpless.

The last glimpse they had of him was the flapping of his trenchcoat, and then there was an explosion of dirt. And then, nothing.

 

***

“ _ Why'd you always stand so close, Cas?” Dean complained, taking an exaggerated step away from him and turning his back. _

“ _ I did not mean to-” _

“ _ Yeah, yeah,” Dean flicked his hand in dismissal, cutting him off. “So what do we owe the pleasure?” _

_ Dean turned back, his full body showing tension and displeasure; Cas tried to figure out for himself what he'd done wrong this time, but since he'd purposely stayed away for several weeks, because of Dean's anger at him before, he was at a loss. _

“ _ I thought I would check in, to see if you, and Sam, were okay.” _

“ _ Can't do that from on high, Cas? No need to inconvenience yourself.” _

“ _ It is never an inconvenience to me to see you both.” Cas protested, although it was light, and underwritten entirely with hurt. _

“ _ You're never here unless there's a problem,” Dean pointed out, wondering to himself why he was sounding so petulant about that when he knew, with absolute certainty, that his attitude was the very reason Cas was staying away more and more. He just couldn't stop himself pushing, and he hated himself for it. _

“ _ I did not feel it was necessary to burden you with my presence if there was nothing I could assist you with.” _

“ _ Burden...” Dean grumbled under his breath, rolling his eyes. _

_ Cas' heart sank, and he received the message, loud and clear. He clearly was a burden, and he'd timed this visit wrong, yet again. He couldn't stop himself from being drawn to Dean, he couldn't will himself to stop caring; Dean was in him now, in a way that Cas didn't think he'd ever be able to get over. _

_ Which is why it hurt so much to be constantly sent away. _

***

Too quiet. In the aftermath, when the dust was literally settling around them and their lungs still fought for air, it was already too quiet for Dean's liking.

Where he would normally look in every direction to make sure they were all okay, this time it was pointless looking for anyone other than Sam. Sam, who stood barely a metre away from him with the same expression of horror on his face reflected back from Dean's.

Cas was gone.

***

“ _ You know how creepy it is having you stand and stare over me, Cas?” _

_ Dean's voice was full of exhaustion, and he didn't even raise his head to look at Cas. Dean didn't need to; he'd always been able to sense Cas' arrival, like he was constantly tuned to his whereabouts whether in close proximity or not. _

“ _ I do not wish to be 'creepy'.” _

_ Dean winced as out of the corner of his eye he saw Cas' hands raise to air quote; now was not the time to let his mind wander to let Cas know just how much seeing him do that made him smile. _

“ _ Yeah, well, you don't have to try to be. You just are. What do you want, anyway?” _

_ Cas shifted uncomfortably; was there nowhere he could be where he wasn't unwelcome? Where he didn't feel anything but in the way, or unnecessary? _

“ _ I heard you. Cursing about a witch.” _

_ Dean wiped a tired hand across his face. Great timing, Cas, he thought to himself. Absolutely the best. You showing up when there's a witch about who’s got plans you really don’t want to be part of. How am I supposed to keep you out of harm's way now, huh? “Yeah. You'll always hear me cursing about witches. What's new?” _

“ _ Can I help?” _

“ _ No.” Dean's voice was direct, stern. “We don't need you for this one, Cas. Just... go, would you? It'd be better if you just left.” _

***

Dean and Sam stood unmoving for several minutes as though unable to believe their own eyes. Warily pacing forward, they walked up to the spot Cas had just disappeared from, surveying the area. There was actually nothing to see; no wing marks on the floor like they'd been half-expecting, no soot staining or anything at all to show that he had once been there.

Which is when Dean began pacing. Angry, heavy footsteps up and down the room, lifting up corners of furniture and roughly turning them over like he'd actually find Cas waiting there. Sam stood watching him silently, knowing there was nothing he could do or say to help in that moment.

Even when Dean turned to the wall and punched it, hard, loud enough for Sam to hear his knuckles popping, Sam knew whatever he did would be pointless.

He'd watched Dean the past few months, more intensely than he normally did. The air around Dean literally bristled with tension when Cas was with them, as though Cas' arrival signalled only the very worst of bad things. He watched Dean flinch away instinctually, then again as Dean's eyes flooded with guilt and uncertainty, his body tensing as though there was some internal conflict going on about whether or not to apologise for his actions.

Sam watched when there were near misses; how much more desperately Dean clung on to Cas than in the past, arms tight around him as though the action alone would keep him safe, and whole. Cas seemed so bewildered when those rare times happened that Sam could feel nothing but sorry for him.

Sam watched on the days that followed Cas' departures, when Dean grew quiet, more sullen, and altogether more difficult to be around. Sam often caught Dean staring off into the distance as though looking alone would bring answers to whatever the questions were that he was asking himself. Or bring Cas back. Sam couldn't decide which of those things would actually help him more.

And so he waited. He waited for Dean to calm as much as he ever would. Dean stormed back towards him, coming to a complete stop and standing perfectly straight, all the while breathing heavily and roughly wiping a hand across his eyes.

And then, “Let's go,” as though the finality of his tone was the solution to the situation they found themselves in, spinning on his heel and turning away.

Sam watched Dean's back for a moment, bracing himself for whatever was to come, and then followed.

***

  
  
  



End file.
